


towards the future

by BlueSapphire718



Series: How Alien Cats are a Blessing [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Death by Cats, Friendship, Gen, I swear, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Torture, LITERALLY, Magic, Protective Ulaz (Voltron), Time Travel, Ulaz (Voltron) Lives, the only alien characters are alien cats
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-05
Updated: 2020-03-21
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:34:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21978910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueSapphire718/pseuds/BlueSapphire718
Summary: He was dead, taking a Robeast with him into a folding pocket of time and space.Or so he thought.It didn’t explain why he’s in the middle of a destroyed civilization with nothing but his blade beside him.It doesn’t explain why he’s suddenly able toheal.(Or, an AU where Ulaz accidentally sends himself through time after trying to sacrifice himself, and lands into a dead planet, meets a tiny friend, with a bloodthirsty Druid, and his leader barely alive.He has to find a way to survive while waiting for Voltron, before it’s too late. At least his new tiny friend can help him through it.)
Relationships: Kolivan & Ulaz & Original Alien Character(s), Kolivan & Ulaz (Voltron), Mentioned Antok & Kolivan & Thace & Ulaz (Voltron), Mentioned Shiro & Ulaz, Ulaz & Original Alien Character(s)
Series: How Alien Cats are a Blessing [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1586191
Comments: 7
Kudos: 17





	1. Chapter 1

There are times where he wishes that sacrificing his life for the good of the universe will allow the good to resurface and defeat Zarkon. It means dying for a chance to allow others to live and grow strong enough to survive the war. It means _hope_ for a better future.

It seems he has misjudged himself.

Ulaz tears his eyes away from the destruction in front of him, the sickening feeling of dread swirling in his stomach. He always despises seeing these scenes; to see how cities, once proudly standing, fall prey to war, despite being used to seeing these kinds of sights.

There’s buildings reduced to nothing but rubble, the scent of dust mixed with blood and rot in the air, and he can see corpses decaying slowly. One of them has a hand reached out, as if they are expecting someone to take it and help them. The other hand is curled around a smaller corpse.

Turning his head away from the sight, he presses his lips together to prevent himself from letting out a cry. It makes him feel nauseous, makes him feel like he could fall down anytime as his body betrays him and trembles. He’s used to the sight of corpses since he had to experiment on them for the Druids, but this... 

This is beyond what he’s used to.

Adults, children, tiny _kits_ were slaughtered here in this city. He swallows, gritting his teeth together as his mind continues to drag up the memories of burnt bodies and the prisoners wailing to be let go. It’s too much like the scene in front of him, and he wants to forget.

Perhaps it would do him some good to go explore the city and find shelter, to salvage something to eat. To regain and steady his thoughts, and to get sleep. Ulaz glances up to the darkening sky, lets out a long sigh before slowly beginning his trek towards the heart of the city. 

He remembers the training the previous leader had given to them as trainees, if there was a scenario that they managed to get themselves stuck on an estranged planet. Lets out a chuckle when he remembers himself promising to never get into a situation like that, before Thace raised his eyebrow at him and dragged him to dinner. The irony of it.

The evidence of the battles here are massive, this time on the outskirts of the city. He takes tenacious steps, glances at the large cracks in the wall. Cracks run throughout one wall of a building, looking like streaks of lightning dancing across. But there’s something... _off_ about it. Pauses to step over and allow his claws to drag across it, observing it closer.

Rubbing the insides of the crack, he closes his eyes and breathes in the dust at the realization. Magic. There’s no other explanation; Druid magic had been used here, against the civilian population in this city. It’s loathsome to think of the Druids falling this low. Ulaz glances at the other crack, slashed across the wall.

“Impossible,” Ulaz murmurs to himself, judging the slash as he feels his eyes narrow down at it. He recognizes it; the shape, the curve of the slash, the depth of it... 

A Marmoran blade.

Only one of their blades can do this.

A helpless laugh escapes his throat, startling him as he continues to stare at the slash. One of their agents had been fighting here against the Druids, most likely to defend the civilians here and disobeying his leader’s orders. Like him, when he tried to sacrifice himself for the Paladins of Voltron.

He turns away from the slash before turning to study the other fractures and rifts on the other buildings and rubble. They’re the same as the ones he had just seen, and a shiver slithers down his back. Blades must have fought here against Druids for something.

It’s impossible to not be fighting for something, to not fight for a cause. He knows his fellow Blades well and what’s required of them. Knows exactly what the Trials are for when they have taken them and what the Trials have prepared them for.

Shakes his head from the thoughts that torment his mind, letting out a sigh as he glances at the barely intact building. That would have to do for shelter for now, especially when he still has no idea where he is. All Ulaz needs left is to see if there’s anything to start a small fire with and get himself a ration bar to eat.

Slowly heading towards the building, he ducks his head under the wrecked doorway and tilts his head at the sight of the room he’s in. It’s mostly unscathed, other than the mess of broken glass and scattered blankets. He’s slightly relieved to see a fireplace in the middle.

Ulaz slowly takes the blankets and flattens it out, gathering a few to serve as pillows and placing them to the side. A purr erupts from his throat as he sees he had managed to fit everything that he needed. Sends a small ancient Galran prayer to the dead civilians of the home for disrupting their belongings.

He circles around it, bends his head to sniff the blankets, and it smells of a home. A family. And he dips his head to pay his respects to the spirits again for allowing him to use the blankets and for shelter.

It reminds him of the time him and Antok stumbled upon a decimated village after a successful mission, and they had to build a nest from grass and twigs. His heart pangs at the thought of the other Galran, his fellow Blade. Thace, if he had gotten the news, might cry, if he remembers how emotional he is. Kolivan... 

His leader would mourn in private.

It doesn’t (and wouldn’t) surprise him, since Kolivan hides his emotions from everyone. His leader wouldn’t admit it, keeping it in until the Galran would reach their nest and cry. Ulaz has seen him at his worst when he came in from his tasks, head bowed and eyes dark while staring blankly at something.

Only Antok was able to push him up, to spill his emotions out, to tell him that it was alright to cry. He and Thace would hover in the sidelines before Antok nodded at them and they would all curl up together in their nest. Rumbling and purring and curling around each other in a pile.

The memory brings a small smile to his face as he takes his blade off, and curls in the nest, lets out a yawn. That’s correct, he needs to sleep... 

Darkness overtakes his vision a few ticks later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted to get this idea out of my head and put down this; what if Ulaz was sent through time from sacrificing himself to take the Robeast down? This is what I came up with, and I swear, alien cats are coming very soon, don't worry.
> 
> I also swear that I didn't mean to decide that Voltron needed more alien cats. I swear.
> 
>  **Terms** :  
> Kits - A Galra term for children.  
> Tick - An time measurement term; it's a tad longer than a second.
> 
> Enjoy!


	2. Chapter 2

Something soft prods him awake.

Letting out a groan, he slowly reopens his eyes, slightly disoriented before looking towards a pair of curious brown eyes. Ulaz jolts in surprise, flinches back as he stares at the tiny creature sitting mere inches away from his face. Pale red ears twitch back, and the creature chirps happily and lets out a purr.

“What...” Ah, that’s right, he landed himself into a decimated city and made himself a nest to rest in before moving on. His heart aches at leaving the nest, but his stomach’s growling and he needs to eat. He pushes himself up from the nest, looks warily at the creature as it pads up to him and nuzzles his leg.

The creature is unidentifiable to his knowledge, as he has never encountered such a species like this one here. Pale red fur, brown eyes, the body shaped like a feline with marks scattered across it, and abnormally large ears that are currently twitching around. Its’ bushy tail swishes along the ground.

There’s no denying it’s adorable, however.

“Stop,” he tells the tiny creature sternly, only for it to jump into his lap and purr louder. “I am serious, little one. I do not know you, nor do I know if you have a virus that can kill me. Or get me sick.”

It blinks up at him with a tilt of its’ head, before chirping at him, leaping up to his shoulders. He bites his tongue as it nuzzles his cheek and drapes itself around his neck. Fur brushes against him as the creature relaxes in his hold. Sighs as he lifts his hands to pull it off, before he freezes.

Is... is it attaching itself to his _neck_?

“Please, let go,” he murmurs to it, before grimacing at the sudden claws on his suit. Far too close to his neck, for his liking. This creature can kill him far too easily. “Your claws are far too close to my neck. If you may retract them, I will allow you to stay up there.”

The claws retract immediately, followed by purrs and more nuzzling. “You’re much more intelligent than I thought,” Ulaz says thoughtfully, wincing at the hunger pangs in his stomach, before he reaches down to his small pouch to pull out a ration bar. He breaks a piece from it, throwing it into his mouth and chews.

Grimaces at the taste as he gags on it and swallows. Dirt and bitter herbs fill his mouth as the aftertaste washes through him, making him shudder. The ration bars may taste horrible, he reflects as he takes out his water carrier, but they had enough nutrients to keep him going for a couple of days, perhaps even a week.

Glancing up, he watches the creature peer at the ration bar curiously and it chirps questioningly. “Do you want a taste?” he asks, splitting a tiny part of the ration bar and lifting it up for the creature to take it.

It snatches the piece from his hand, its’ jaw chomping down on the small offering he gave it, before trilling happily. At least someone’s happy with the food they have received.

“You are a very strange creature,” Ulaz tells it with a tilt of his head, breaking another piece and handing it to the creature. It snatches that up, too, tiny jaws working quickly on the small snack, crumbs falling down and into his lap. He sweeps them off. “I’m guessing that you enjoyed that.”

The creature only purrs in response, curling around his neck. He takes another bite of the ration bar, glancing at it as he slowly chews and swallows. There’s no way of telling if the creature is hostile, but it seems friendly so far. 

_Could be dangerous_ , Thace’s cautious tone echoes in his head, and he has to chuckle. His pridemate has always been the cautious one, since he specializes in infiltration and espionage. He misses him, the scent of calmness that always warms him, how Thace always cares so, so much for his pride.

A chirp comes from next to his ear, makes him turn his head to watch the creature nuzzle his cheek gently and lick. Ulaz feels himself softly smile and shakes his head in amusement as it tumbles down from his shoulder and into his lap with a squeak of surprise.

It reminds him of the small nursery in the main base, tiny kits wrestling with each other as they mimic the battles of Voltron. Kolivan absolutely adored watching them when he had the time, allowing the kits to climb all over him when he came to visit them. Often, Ulaz and the rest of the pride, or other Blades, joined in to watch their leader purr happily as he played with the kits.

Antok would softly laugh and ask their leader if he wanted a kit of his own, the answer being a purr of agreement. It was disheartening to watch Kolivan grow stoic when they leave the nursery behind, him slipping away to attend to his duties as leader. He knows it hurt Antok the most back then, their second-in-command being the closest to their leader.

Jolts back to reality when the creature whines and hops back onto his shoulders again, before he plops the last of the ration bar into his mouth. He slowly stands, secures his blade on his back, the creature gripping onto his shoulder pads as he walks out of his temporary shelter.

The sky glows a soft orange, pink mixed with it as he takes in his surroundings. There’s no end to the destruction, as far as he can see, crumbled walls standing in the midst of it. The creature whines next to his ear, nudging his cheek gently as it holds onto him.

“Quiet, we do not want to attract unnecessary attention,” he scolds it gently, shaking his head as he makes sure his blade is still with him, before walking again towards the heart of the city. He makes sure to note the landmarks near where his temporary nest is.

Licks his fangs as he pauses, looking towards the tiny being with a tilt of his head. “I should come up with a name for you as well.”

The creature chirps in agreement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, an alien cat-creature... thing. I don't know, but here's an alien cat.
> 
>  **Terms** :  
> Kits - A Galra term for children.  
> Pridemate - What Galra would call their family members.  
> Pride - The Galra term for family. It usually consists of 5-8 Galra, including kits.
> 
> Enjoy!


	3. Chapter 3

After a few doboshes of walking mindlessly through the city, he’s about to head into another wrecked building when he feels a pair of eyes on him.

The creature chirps in confusion when he turns around, narrowing his eyes as he scans his surroundings. There’s no one and nothing there, and yet, he can feel himself stiffening. Feels himself tensing at the non-existent threat as fur brushes against his neck, bringing him back to reality.

Forcing himself to relax, Ulaz finds himself glancing over at the creature and gives it a crooked smile. The being blinks at him worriedly. “Do not fret,” he reassures it. “I believe that it’s my instincts acting up. There’s no one but us here, little one.”

It nuzzles his cheek with a purr, as if telling him it’s alright, before nipping his ear playfully. Thace used to do the same thing when they first joined the Blade of Marmora, after a hard training session. He shakes his head from the thoughts of his pridemate, walking into the abandoned building and ducks under the doorway.

The scent of decay hits him, causes him instinctively activate his mask and pull his hood over his head. The creature whimpers and burrows itself in his hood, fur touching the back of his neck. Behind his mask, he bites the inside of his cheek at the sight before him.

More corpses. They’re completely unidentifiable, especially when their bodies are mutilated beyond recognition. Rotten flesh fills the air, floods his nose as he swallows bile and turns away from the scene. He feels like throwing up, but he needs to keep the contents of the ration bar in his stomach.

 _Far too late for wishes now_ , he thinks to himself.

Silver catches his eye before he starts to leave, gleaming in the dark with a faint flicker of purple streaking through it. He glances towards the creature, before slowly trekking towards the sliver of silver as he reaches out and drags the silver from the debris.

Sees the intricate design as it clicks in his mind about what it is. A Marmoran blade. The creature pokes its’ head out to peer at the blade curiously, ears flattening down on its’ head before it hisses at it. Ulaz pays the creature no heed, focusing his attention on the blade.

He can remember all the lessons drilled into his head about the Marmoran blades, and their life force being connected to the blades are one of them. One glowing with a light means the owner of the blade is still alive. A blade flickering with barely enough light means that one is on the verge of death.

There’s nothing familiar about the blade, but he’s been gone from the Blade of Marmora for a few decaphoebs, so it isn’t surprising. It may be a new member, he muses to himself as he holds it tightly in his hands.

A chirp from the creature brings him back to reality as he glances towards it, before he heads back towards the entrance. Deactivates his mask, throws his hood off, and breathes in the musky air, slightly relieved to be outside. The creature trills, as if in agreement with him.

Gripping the blade tightly, Ulaz stabs it into the ground and watches the blade carefully as he allows his thoughts to run through his mind. Allows himself to analyze the situation and all the given clues he has found. There was a battle here, he concludes.

A battle that managed to wipe out the entire civilization in the city with Blades as the casualties as well, as seen by the signature blades they use alone and without users. Did Kolivan lead them here? His leader couldn’t have been this brash, to allow Blades to fight in this battle.

He would have called them back, but they refused to listen. _Yes_ , Ulaz thinks to himself just as the creature tilts its’ head at him. _That’s the most logical explanation._

The blade continues to glimmer before the light abruptly vanishes. It doesn’t reappear again, even when he picks it up and examines it further. Gone. The light’s gone. His heart slowly sinks once the creature chirps sadly and rubs its’ cheek against his own. 

The owner of this blade is dead.

Grief is a feeling that’s common among the Blade of Marmora, since they have lost over thousands of fellow Blades when they first started. By the time Kolivan became leader and they have served for two hundred decaphoebs (Kolivan for one hundred and ninty-six decaphoebs), they’ve already lost many who they considered as comrades and as part of their pride.

It’s destructive and overwhelming, and this feeling of raw grief swirling in his chest is no different. He has seen many fall prey to it, screaming and kicking while others held them down to prevent them from going mad. Then the tears would come and they slowly turn into shells of their former selves.

“I suppose you do not mind if we perform a ceremony to honour this Blade?” he quietly asks the creature, who only twitches its’ right ear and chirps. Brown eyes flash with something that seems like pity, but it disappears before he can say anything about it.

“I will accept that you are okay with this.”

Every ceremony for a fallen Blade is slightly different, with customs and traditions to respect them if they are a hybrid. A Blade may be given original Galra traditions if they are fully Galran. Some Blades may request to have a ceremony that is from another planet when they die. There are those who choose to be cremated instead.

For those who have no bodies and only their blade is returned, the Blade of Marmora would perform a ceremony. It would ‘cleanse’ the blade from their original owner’s life force and ‘set’ the Blade’s soul free. They would then give offerings and utter ancient Galran prayers to Marmora to send the Blade’s soul to her paradise.

Every Blade is encouraged to remember this ceremony, and Ulaz is no exception to it.

Ulaz places the blade in front of him before setting the creature down next to him. It sniffs the blade curiously before settling down beside him with ears drooping. Like it can feel the grief inside of him, it drapes its’ tail over his leg and stares up at him with wide brown eyes.

“Thank you,” he says sincerely as he can to the creature. He takes his own blade from his back, stabs it into the ground, and bows his head. 

Then he begins.

* * *

He leaves the blade on the makeshift grave he had made earlier, intending to return to his temporary nest to sleep so he has energy to salvage parts. After all, he needs a way to communicate with the Blade of Marmora soon and get someone to send him a ship.

Only takes a footstep before the creature swivels its’ head around, lips peeled back to reveal tiny sharp fangs. It bares said fangs at one building, growls and hisses, and its’ claws sink into his shoulder pad. Makes him wince and pause at the sudden hostile behavior the creature is displaying.

“Is something wrong, little one?” Ulaz asks worriedly.

The creature only snarls, just as a footstep echoes behind him, makes him stiffen and reach behind him for his blade. Then an unfamiliar voice says, “A Blade of Marmora, alive.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am proud to present more alien cats! Ulaz is in for so much trouble. If there is something that I should be aware of to tag appropriately in this chapter, give me a heads-up please!
> 
>  **Terms** :  
> Doboshes - Space term equivalent to minutes.  
> Pridemate - The Galra term for family member.  
> Decaphoebs - Space term equivalent to years.  
> Pride - The Galra term for family.
> 
> Enjoy!


	4. Chapter 4

He didn’t expect someone to still be alive in this empty city.

Turning around, Ulaz keeps his hand on the hilt of his blade while sliding his feet into a position where he can run or fight if necessary. A masked figure emerges from the building cautiously, and he notes to himself how stiff their movements are. On his shoulder, the creature’s fur is bristling with hostility, hackles rising as it snarls.

The figure raises their hands in surrender, shaking their head frantically. “Wait, wait, don’t attack me!” they cry in alarm. He doesn’t pause to move backwards as the creature hisses in warning at them. “A-Are you really a Blade of Marmora?”

This alien knows who he’s affiliated with.

As far as he can recall, no alien or Galra knew who the Blade of Marmora are, especially outsiders. The only outsiders who were permitted to know who they are were Shiro and the Voltron Paladins. No one else other than them knew.

“Who are you?” he asks warily. “How do you know where I am from?”

“So you  _ are _ a Blade of Marmora,” the figure breathes, before stepping out from the shadow of the building. He sucks in a breath at the sight, the creature’s ears flattening itself on its’ head. A mask with two tusks cover the figure’s face, while wearing what seemed to be the same clothing style as the corpses he has seen.

It seems to be a local, based on the clothing style, though the way they act makes him stiffen and the creature tightly clinging onto him even more. He doesn’t have any proof that they aren’t hostile. Neither does he have proof they aren’t lying that they knew who he was.

“Who are you?” he repeats as he tightens his grip on his blade. It’s suspicious enough that this alien seems to know the Blade of Marmora, and acting as if they were comrades. His leader couldn’t have been foolish enough to leak their entire identity to a stranger.

The alien pauses at his question, before tilting their head to the side to answer. “I am Macidus, the last survivor of this civilization. Now please, answer my question; are you a Blade?”

Desperation edges their tone, and he relalitates, lowering his hand from his blade. He knows how destructive one can become if desperate, and he was desperate enough to set Shiro free from the Galra Empire. “I am.”

Relief seems to sweep over the alien, as their body relaxes and they slowly begin to walk towards him. He glances towards the creature, but it continues to snarl at Macidus, looking ready to pounce when the alien approaches them. Reaches up to stroke the creature’s head, and its’ ears go up, alert.

It’s strange that the creature seems to be warmed up to him, but starts growling and snarling the second they have contact with Macidus. There’s something off about that alien, if he has to admit to himself, but he doesn’t push it. Places it in the back of his mind to think about later, as he stands still, barely paying attention to Macidus’ words.

Though he narrows his eyes as Macidus babbles on, some words catching his attention. “-after the massacre here, much less with a  _ Daltae _ of all creatures.”

“Pardon me, but could you please repeat that?”

At that, Macidus pauses, and Ulaz can feel displeasure radiating from the local. “Of course,” they say smoothly, making him internally applaud at the way they hide their feelings. “I wasn’t aware that a Blade was still alive after the massacre here, and with a Daltae of all creatures to bond with you.”

“A massacre here?” The creature flicks its’ tail on the back of his neck and bares its’ fangs at Macidus, the obvious discomfort and confusion not lost to him. “And a Daltae? What is that? What happened here?”

“A question at a time, if you would,” the alien says quietly, motions him to the building with a wave of their hand. He snaps his mouth shut. “I will explain what the massacre happened, and then I will answer your... other questions.”

The scent of smoke and ember floods his nostrils as he follows after Macidus, heat assaulting him immediately when he enters the building. Spies a fire flickering and twisting from orange to red. He doesn’t let his guard down, still standing as the other alien sits down on an empty cargo box.

“Calm yourself, little one,” he murmurs to the creature, who hisses when the alien moves to throw something into the fire. Most likely something flammable, if the roar of the fire growing louder tells him anything. “I promise nothing will happen to you.”

The creature only narrows its’ eyes at him, as if in disbelief he didn’t trust the creature to take care of itself.

Macidus secures his attention by clearing their throat, makes him draw closer to the fire and feel the creature’s claws dig deeper into his shoulder pad. He swallows as the other alien looks at him, and even if there are no eyes, there’s a hint of sadness in their movements.

“The massacre,” Macidus begins, “was two decaphoebs ago, when Kolivan-”

He flinches from the casual use of his leader’s name. No one uses his name, not unless they are part of Kolivan’s pride or someone he trusted.

“-called every single one of his agents away from their assignments to gather here at this base...”

Horror dawns on him when Macidus tells him the story of the destruction of the Blades. Voltron went missing around two decaphoebs ago, with the Galra Empire dividing into different warring sectors after the power shift within. Prince Lotor was supposedly crowned Emperor, but he disappeared around the same time Voltron did.

Haggar had given an order to the Druids to destroy all of the Blades of Marmora, causing them to mercilessly murder every Blade they found and hunt down all who remained. This would go on after Voltron disappeared, and after Haggar disappeared into the unknown.

Kolivan summoned every remaining Blade from their assignments, since Lotor took the throne and exposed nearly every Marmoran agent’s identity. They retreated to this planet and forged an alliance with the civilization here, creating a new base during the meantime to stand against their hunters and survive.

The Druids had managed to track the Blades to the planet, launching a surprise assault on the unsuspecting base, sieging it with magic. Battles were fought, casualties rose into hundreds on both sides, and the civilization in the city were slaughtered. Kolivan was one of the casualties, with Macidus as the lone survivor of the battle.

Ulaz can’t help but feel bile gathering in his throat when Macidus finishes his tale. So Kolivan did lead them into battle, hoping to defeat the Druids and take any means of survival for the Blades. Even so, it was foolish of his leader to believe this was the only way to survive.

The Blade of Marmora had survived over ten thousand years without detection from the Galra Empire, so to see their entire identity exposed is startling.

“It is a lot to take in, I know,” Macidus says in a quiet voice, as he struggles to take his grief under control. He doesn’t bother to answer them. “I am sorry for your losses.”

A soft hiss makes him look over to the creature, who licks his cheek and bares its’ fangs again at the other alien. He can’t help but look away from the fire and the alien, dipping his head to the side. Can’t speak, feels his throat being lodged as he swallows.

There’s no time to grieve, though. He has to find a way out of this planet and find the remaining Blades left in the universe, and to find Voltron again.

But first... 

“What is a Daltae?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What is a Daltae? Find out in the next chapter! It'll most likely be updated next week or the week after that.
> 
> Enjoy!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please be warned that there is mentions of: torture, blood, murder, and killing.

_“What is a Daltae?”_

The alien doesn’t look up from the fire, only throwing another flammable object into it, seemingly contemplating his answer. Ulaz waits for the answer patiently, lifting a finger up to stroke the creature’s cheek to soothe it. He has all the time in the world now, despite the situation he is in.

For all he knows, there could be another Druid, waiting for him to lower his guard and kill him on the spot.

Soft brushes of fur on his nape makes him relax from the tension, and he looks up to see Macidus staring at him. Now that he’s paying more attention, the way they move and tilt their head... it reminds him of something similar, but he can’t remember where he’s seen it before. He shrugs it off, narrows his eyes at them.

“A Daltae,” Macidus says slowly, catches his attention again. They point towards the creature, their hand slightly shaking when the creature snarls at them. “A Daltae is the creature on your shoulder.”

He jolts in surprise, glancing towards the creature ( _Daltae_ , his mind corrects slowly) with a raised eyebrow. Said Daltae only stares back at him with a flick of its’ tail, a glint of fierceness dance in its’ eyes before it hisses at Macidus once more. He doesn’t understand why it’s being so hostile to the other alien, when it’s been so kind to him instead.

“And by the looks of it, it’s a female,” the alien says dryly. “No wonder she seems so attached to you. Female Daltaes tend to be more aggressive to others if they sense a feeling of malice towards their chosen partner.”

It can _what_?

His mind spins from the information, before the Daltae playfully whacks the back of his head with its’ ( _her_ ) tail and growls. There’s more to the creature, he knows it in his heart, and that Macidus isn’t telling him any more that he should know.

“It can sense emotions?” he asks curiously, only gaining a curt nod in response and he licks his fangs, glancing outside. Time passes fast, he reflects as he turns around to leave the building. The Daltae only purrs in his ear as she relaxes. “Thank you, Macidus. For... telling me about my fellow Blades.”

“It is no problem, my friend,” Macidus answers carefully.

When he leaves the building, he glances at the Daltae, her tail swishing against his shoulder pads and he tilts his head to the side. “You can sense emotions,” Ulaz murmurs, makes her ears go straight up, alert of all dangers. “You were only defending me, were you? They had intentions of hurting me.”

A purr of agreement is his answer.

“I see.” Perhaps Macidus’ intentions were to harm him, but something made them stop, made them stop and pretend to gain his trust instead. He smiles at the Daltae, reaching up to stroke her cheek as he turns a corner. “You still need a name,” he says, changing the topic as she purrs again.

“So you shall be named Azrig, for what you have done for me.”

The newly named Azrig only chirps.

* * *

The sound of water dripping in the far edges of the cavern he’s in makes his ears flatten against his head, mostly because it’s giving him a headache. It reminds him of the situation he carved himself into and can’t get himself out of. The situation he dragged his fellow Blades into. 

A situation he has no hopes of getting out alive.

Lets out a shaky breath as the water stops dripping, feeling a soft breeze brush against his face as he stills himself. _No_ , he tells himself as he tries to curl his hands into a fist, to dig his claws into the palm of his hand to tell himself that it’s no illusion. Breathes. _Do not fall prey, do not listen, listen to the pain, not his voice_ -

Pain flares in his chest, making him gasp quietly at the sudden grip of agony as it shoots down to his legs. Grimaces as he stops moving for a short moment. No illusion, alright. The memory of the hand digging into his chest with pure Quintessence crackling through him makes his body involuntarily shiver.

He has to find a way to escape, to cut off the signal broadcasting to the Blades left in the universe and prevent them from getting killed, too. To prevent them from getting caught in the same trap the rest of them got into. To prevent himself from watch them get killed in front of his own eyes while he couldn’t do anything to save them.

The bonds cut into his wrists and ankles as he tries to move again, perhaps the sixth time he attempted to escape his prison. He can barely move his claws, or to curl his hand into a fist. His mind flashes with purple magic, and he swallows, lets out another shaky breath.

There’s still screams of terror that rings in his ears, footsteps intermingling with it-

Ah. They’re back.

Bites back a curse, as he tries to stay as still as possible, breathing as slow as he can to pretend he’s still unconscious from the last session he had with them. He can hear them moving, curses and snarls escaping their mouth as he waits. 

“To think I nearly finished all of your precious Blades off, little leader,” they hiss when he hears footsteps nearing, stopping before him. He doesn’t bother to answer, allowing his head to hang. “To think I could have killed one more in front of you.”

What?

His thoughts halt immediately, especially since they continue with their rant. They didn’t kill one of his Blades off? Hope rises in his chest before he squashes it down, refusing to allow _them_ to get a hold of it. “But no, a _Daltae_ had to choose one of your Blades! This disrupts every one of my plans! This ruins Haggar’s order!”

Daltae? He can’t recall a creature named that, especially when he’s been researching planets for hundreds of decaphoebs. He also can’t recall anyone telling him about it, either. But that tidbit of information is useful, making him store it away for later to muse over.

A sudden grip and yank on his hair makes him grunt in pain, forces him to open his eyes to meet the masked face of Macidus. “Surely you know which Blade it is,” they snarl out, and he struggles to make his expression neutral. “A Blade that have managed to gain the approval of a Daltae!”

“I do not know,” he answers truthfully with a rasp after a few moments of silence. A hand is placed on his chest, causes him to flinch away and he knows what they’re going to do to him if he lies; it’s going to happen to him either way. The hand, however, moves away and he relaxes a little.

“Then I suppose you do not know the face of this Blade?” Magic spins in the free hand, forming a picture, an image, and-

He stares at the familiar face of Ulaz, shakes his head in disbelief. Ulaz died, died to defend Voltron from a Robeast with the belief that Voltron would save the universe. The most honest of his pride, one of his most trusted, and one of his pride who _died first_.

“No,” he finally croaks out, his throat dry. Perhaps his tone is in denial, or Macidus doesn’t care much any longer.

“Pity, I thought you knew all of your Blades,” the Druid snaps as they yank on his hair harder before letting go. Even though he can’t see the expression on Macidus’ face, he knows they’re outraged, but there’s something about their body language that makes him wary.

“No matter. I will kill all of you off.” Macidus then turns their head to face him, and he feels a shiver slide down his back at the seemingly sadistic smirk on their face. A cackle escapes them. “Oh yes, yes... their blood will be on your hands, but luring them into a false sense of security with you... oh yes.”

“You, my dear little leader, will be the bait to their demise, despite all the delays because of the Daltae.”

Kolivan closes his eyes and not for the first time, he weeps.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I might update this next week if I get myself together and work on future chapters. Hope you enjoy!
> 
>  **Terms** :  
> Decaphoebs - Space term for a year.
> 
> Enjoy!


	6. Chapter 6

_He takes a tentative step into the mess hall, observing the quiet chatter among them all before smoothly lining up after other Blades to get a tray of food. It’s his first quintant at the Blades’ headquarters, and he doesn’t want to mess up. Doesn’t exactly want others to get a chance to belittle him, when he has a chance to prove himself._

_He’s not his father, after all, and his father took a risk in his mission, causing his death._

_The towering Galran in front of him only takes a glance, surprise lighting his features before offering him a smile. “Are you a new trainee?” the Galran asks curiously, takes up a free tray of food offered to him while his tail reaches for utensils._

_Ulaz only blinks up at him, before he nods slowly and takes the next offered tray. “I am,” he says carefully with a clipped tone. He isn’t sure why the Galran gives him a sympathetic look mixed with wariness, but he doesn’t like it. “Why?”_

_“No reason, I am one as well,” the Galran says neutrally, his tail now swishing on the ground after placing the utensils on his tray. He startles at that, staring up at the other as he scrambles for an answer. There is no way that this Galran is a new recruit, especially when they seem to be a seasoned warrior._

_He must have been staring too long, as the other Galran chuckles and tilts his head for him to follow. “I have been raised here, if you are wondering,” he says, lavender pupils glimmering with amusement as he easily weaves among the crowded tables, Ulaz at his heels._

_This Galran must be well known, given the amount of curious stares coming their way and the few occasional greetings that the Galran gives back. He doesn’t bother to question it, seeing how the other seems to be relaxed and used to it. Perhaps he can learn a little more about the Blades from him._

_“I see,” he finally says as the Galran leads him to a table far in the back, away from mostly prying eyes and most other Blades. A strategic place to discuss private conversations no one else would overhear._

_“Antok,” the Galran introduces himself, placing his tray down on the table and stretches his hand out._

_“Ulaz,” he returns and reaches to grasp his forearm after a moment of silence, balancing his own tray on his free hand. He lets go and sits down_

_“Thace,” another voice joins in, a tray slamming down next to him, makes him slowly turn his head to see another Galran beside him. ‘Thace’ gives him a small smirk in turn, sits down on the seat next to his and picks up a knife, spins it around with practiced ease. He doesn’t appreciate whatever this Galran is thinking. “So, are we having some sort of meeting today?”_

_“Thace, no,” Antok says sternly, a large three-fingered hand reaching out to snatch the knife out of the other Galran’s hand. He watches their light banter silently, curiosity rearing its’ head in his mind. “And no, we are not. I am merely trying-”_

_“Just shut up and admit you wanted friends other than me, you_ vrok _er,” Thace tells the other Galran with a roll of his eyes. Ulaz can’t help but smile at that, offering Thace a smile himself as he settles down to eat his meal. He hasn’t thought of his father the entire time he’s been with Antok, he realizes with a soft inhale of air._

_A few dosboshes later has the entire mess hall abruptly fall silent, with Antok and Thace pausing their small chatter, and Ulaz lifting his head to stare in confusion. Everyone seems to be staring towards a lone figure awkwardly standing at the entrance. He feels his blood run cold at the sight of the familiar Galran._

_His father’s executioner._

_“Is that not the former Lieutenant of Sendak?” Thace asks curiously, pokes at Antok’s arm when the large Galran doesn’t move. “Former Lieutenant Kolivan, am I right? He looks young to be in the army. Right, Antok? Antok?”_

_Antok only continues to stare at the Galran, who is now lining up to get his tray of food._

_Thace leans over to Ulaz. “I think the sight of Kolivan broke him,” he whispers with a twinkle in his eyes. As much as it seems to be meant as a joke, he can’t laugh, can’t look away when Kolivan accepts a cup of water instead of his meal._

_Kolivan was his father’s executioner, was the enemy; how exactly can Ulaz accept him as a comrade?_

  
  


Ulaz slowly opens his eyes to Azrig chirping worriedly at him as she nuzzles his cheek, a glint of distress flashing through her eyes before vanishing. She gives him a purr, her tail flicking down on the ground. He smiles at her, reaching out with a finger to stroke her head carefully.

He hasn’t thought or dreamed of his pride’s first meeting in a long time, since they were first trainees, then to earning ranks of Commanders and senior Blades while Kolivan and Antok became leader and second-in-command respectively. There was some tension between him and Kolivan, too, now that he remembers, but they’ve both slowly gotten over that.

A small mirthless chuckle escapes him as he sits up, grabs his blade and slips it onto his back, securing it tightly to make sure it doesn’t fall off. He reaches out to grab the sticks Azrig brought back to him a couple of days prior, throwing them into the small fire pit.

The fire roars.

“Well, it seems it’s going to be another day of searching, Azrig,” he says calmly to the Daltae next to him. Azrig only huffs, climbing into his lap and curls up with a soft purr. He pulls out the container where he placed the leftovers of his last meal (jerky mixed with herbs and rodent meat), uncovering it before offering some to the Daltae. “Would you like some?”

The Daltae only trills with glee as she quickly snatches the jerky and finishes it within matters of minutes, licking her own fangs as she stares up at him with a pleading look. He shakes his head in amusement before taking a bite of his own.

It’s only been a few quintants since he’s arrived on the planet and met Azrig, only salvaging parts to create a communicator and send for help. They both hunted for their meals and Ulaz slowly learns to rely on his new friend for searching. He buried and cremated corpses of both Blades and civilians. Macidus seemingly disappeared into thin air, but that’s fine with him.

He doesn’t need the alien to try and kill him, too, after learning how Azrig was only hostile due to feelings of malice.

Finishing his meal and climbing up to his feet slowly, he watches as Azrig immediately takes it as an invitation to climb up onto his shoulder. Her fur brushes against his own, the Daltae chirping in his ear when she curls around his neck with ease.

“Let’s get going,” he murmurs to her. She only lets out a whine, but settles against him as he walks out of the building and turns to the right, the only side of the city that he hasn’t explored yet. There’s barely anything that’s useful to him, since they don’t seem to have that many technological artifacts that he can use.

He does, however, appreciate that there’s enough resources to last him for at least a decaphoeb. He’s been scouring around the other parts of the city enough to the point where he knows he has enough to support himself. Glances at Azrig, and reminds himself he has enough to support both him and his new friend now.

Azrig’s ears twitches, before she chirps and hops off his shoulder, lands softly on the ground. He looks at her in surprise. “Azrig, what are you-”

The Daltae takes off.

“Azrig!” he cries out in surprise, an instant reaction to chase after her and dodge rubbles of stone. She leaps and turns at every corner, seemingly having the attempt to lose him in the chase. His heart stops when a thought disturbs his concentration on following her; she isn’t trying to go and leave him, correct?

Slowly stops to mull over the thought, his breaths coming in short pants and gasps. Since when has he been so dependent on someone’s company? He is supposed to be used to no company, since he’s been in charge and alone in the communication base in the Thaldycon System.

Except that’s a lie.

There are times when he misses the soft snores of Thace in his pride’s nest, the gentle purrs when Antok curls around whoever is closest to him, the quiet lyrics of a lullaby Kolivan sings when he’s awake. He will never be used to no one being around him, and it shows.

A whine below him catches his attention, and he looks down.

Azrig stares back up at him with another soft whine. _She came back_ , he thinks with a daze, and surprise must have shown on his face because Azrig rubs her cheek against his leg with a reassuring purr. Ulaz offers her a wry smile as he bends down on one knee to stroke her head.

“My apologies,” he says quietly as she purrs from the strokes. “I have gotten a little carried away with my feelings. Now,” he pauses. “Why are we here?”

Her ears twitches a little, before she turns her head towards the right. He follows the direction of the Daltae’s gaze, before his stomach drops and his blood runs cold.

An opening of a tunnel system.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Terms** :  
>  _Vrok_ \- The Galran term for "fuck" or "shit." Mostly used like the Altean curse word, quiznack.  
> Doboshes - The space term for minutes.  
> Quintants - The space term for days.
> 
> Enjoy!


End file.
